Breathe
by Dyslexic CSI
Summary: She drew her hand up to get a better view of the liquid and gasped when she saw the crimson fluid running down her fingers. They had been shot at and he had risked his life to save hers.


Disclaimer: If I owned them, the characters wouldn't be as brilliant as they currently are...

A/N: I wrote this after watching Kill Ari (2) again... Yeah I still haven't seen Season 5 yet so I am quite behind on the whole story line. It kinda got me in a very angsty mood. Read and review.... Hope you enjoy.

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Breathe

The sun shone down weakly on the golden leaf lined streets of the busy Georgetown street. They walked slowly down the sidewalk, as she admired the clothing through the shop display windows, and he stood smiling at her, encouraging and admiring her at the same time. Her long brown hair blowing in the wind, her brown eyes sparkling with amusement, her cheeks and nose tinged pink with the chilly breeze, and her lips turned up in a warm wide smile. His heart skipped a beat as he watched the woman standing in front of him, and wondering just how long this little undercover operation would last.

They had been trailing a child kidnapping ring for the better part of the last three weeks and somehow it just wasn't getting any easier, and they were no closer to nabbing the little scum bags.

The hairs on the back of her neck stood up and even though she was warmly dressed she felt the goose bumps settle on the skin of her arms. She instinctively moved closer to him, noting that his hand looped tighter around her waist and he pulled her closer into his larger body, and he noticed the change in her body language. In the three weeks that they had to play the couple in love, looking into adopting a child, they had grown accustomed to having each other around twenty four hours a day, seven days a week and for some reason she couldn't imagine not having him around. It felt as though they had been together for years and not weeks.

A group of girls passed them, forcing them to break the little spell they were so caught up in and let go of each other to allow the giggling women to pass them. She had barely returned to his side when she felt his body slam into hers with such force they both fell to the ground in a mass of tangled limbs. Her head hit the paved sidewalk with a resounding thud (ouch!) and it jerked up with inverse force, but what bothered her most was the sound of cracking bone that she heard when her skull made contact with the ground. A blinding pain shot through her brain and made its way to the rest of her body as she tried to register what had just happened, but it was getting difficult to concentrate on what was going on around her.

A small group of people had now surrounded them, most of them looking scared and worried but none of them advancing near enough to actually come into contact with them.

She opened her eyes after what seemed like an eternity but was only a few seconds and felt a pair of hands cradling her head gently. She found it difficult to breathe and that's when she realised his body was draped protectively over hers, with his one hand resting on the paving under her head and the other attached to her hip. His chest heaved in what she knew was pain and his breathing had become laboured and shallow. Slowly she ran her hand up his body, from his knee, up his thigh past his hips and waist but stopped when she felt a sticky liquid substance halfway up his side.

She drew her hand up to get a better view of the liquid and gasped when she saw the crimson fluid running down her fingers. They had been shot at and he had risked his life to save hers. She began to panic even though she had been trained to keep herself calm in situations like these. Still, nothing had prepared her for something like this, having the man she adored to bits, lying on top of her, close to death, while she was pinned under him, somewhat unhurt but helpless.

The faint sound of sirens was audible and she relaxed a bit knowing at least help was on the way. Within a few minutes the crowd had parted to let the emergency medical technicians to pass through to get to them and the gasp that escaped the first medic's mouth did not go unnoticed by her. Then he started to speak to his colleague, informing the other man about the injuries he could actually see.

"We have a gunshot would left side of chest, bullet entry level of sixth rib. No exit wound, so I'm assuming the slug is still inside." The other medic nodded as he approached the group carrying a small oxygen tank with a mask and the rest of his medical kit. They turned him over and she immediately felt the weight lifted from her, making it easier for her to breathe. She sat up after a few minutes and rubbed the back of her head, but she was overtaken by a bout of dizziness which she overcame by breathing deeply.

When she looked up again to see just where her 'partner' was she saw the IV drip inserted in the vein in his forearm and the rest of him attached to various other machines. He did not look like he was in a good position at all. She looked around to see if any of her other colleagues had arrived and was relieved when she saw the older ME standing a few feet away from her. He couldn't come any closer to her; it would have risked the entire operation but the slight nod of his head was enough for her to understand that they were there for her.

A few minutes later a second team of medics arrived and soon enough she felt a pair of hands on her, assessing her body to check for any injuries, save for the slight bleed from the cut on the back of her head. The paramedic had talked to her, asked her what seemed like a million questions and she for the most part had answered them as best as she could, but it was difficult for her to remember even the simplest things. Her mind was focused on her partner who was carried into an ambulance on a gurney, his face pale and his clothes stained with blood. At the last minute she decided that if she was going to the hospital she was going to be transported in the same vehicle as he was; there was no way she was going to leave him alone.

The drive to Bethesda was one of the most terrifying rides of her life, not that she was scared of bad driving, but because he had crashed twice on the way there. They were almost halfway when the machines connected to him started beeping loudly and the medics started talking in what seemed like a totally foreign language to her.

"His vitals are unstable, blood pressure is dropping, and O2 levels are dropping. He's going into shock, we need 10cc of epinephrine stat," While all this was being said she saw the medic place an oxygen mask over his nose and mouth, as she connected it to a bag which she squeezed to help him breathe. She gripped the side of the stretcher he was laying on and closed her eyes as she took in one deep breath. He was still alive, and that was what mattered at that moment. She held his hand in hers more to reassure herself than him and she was not sure if he even registered that she was seated next to him.

She had just calmed herself down and tried to settle her racing heart when the steady beeping of the machine turned into one long beep. He had flatlined, his heart had just stopped and suddenly everything seemed to be happening too quickly. There was a shout for paddles as the medic ripped off her partner's T-shirt and applied gel to his chest. "Charging… Clear," she heard the medic shout and barely pulled her hand from his before 150V of current was passed through him to jump start his heart. Her breath caught in her throat when the solid beep remained the same. They tried twice more to get his heart started but it seemed he just did not have the strength to fight.

"Come on you can do this; do it for me," she whispered into his ear and she prayed that he could hear her. The fourth try seemed to do the trick and his heart started up again, his pulse was weak but it was there, she knew he was still in danger, that he could still lose his life.

It's now two hours later and she's still pacing the long white walled corridors of the hospitals OR waiting area. The rest of the team joined her after the shooter and his gang of little dirtbag kidnappers had been arrested, read their Miranda rights and detained in holding cells at the NCIS HQ. Even the brilliant Goth Lab Tech had abandoned all her work for the other teams so she could be here when he woke up from the surgery. She's already had an MRI and CT scan of her head done and the doctors didn't see any damage done so they allowed her to come up here and wait. Now she's hungry but she's afraid that while she's gone to get something to eat one of the nurses or doctors will come and update them on his condition and she does not want to miss that so she paces the length of the corridor to distract herself.

After what seemed like an eternity a young man exits the OR and heads in their direction, his face unreadable and her breath catches in her throat again.

"He's stable; we managed to get the bullet out. There was very little damage to his lung and fortunately for him your shooter's aim was bad, it missed the heart by millimetres. He suffered major blood loss but I have to say he fought very hard to stay alive. He should be up in an hour or so, you can visit him then," the doctor said as he smiled and made his way back into the OR.

The sky has turned black with stars trying to show themselves through the clouds when he wakes up, all tired and sore and groggy. He's confused for a second when he opens his eyes and nothing looks familiar. He wants to say something but his throat is dry and a croak escapes instead. She is by his side in a second, holding a small ice chip in her fingers, waiting for him to open his mouth and swallow it to ease his parched throat.

"Welcome back," is Ducky's first words to him but before he can give a smart comment he looks around to each of his team members and notes the expressions on them. He can see all of them are worried about him, but none of them will voice their feelings. His eyes meet hers last and somehow an entire conversation passes in those few seconds.

"How are you feeing?" the lab tech's voice is soft and caring and he can't help but smile slightly at the sound of it.

"Like I've been shot," he says with immense effort and after a few minutes of silence he continues, "And I need a cup of real coffee." This time his mouth turns up into his trademark smirk, and his eyes twinkle with mirth. They all laugh quietly at his answer, he was so damn predictable.

She turns to look at him and finds his gaze pinned on her and she remembers to breathe… He's going to be just fine.

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Please tell me what you guys think and also who fits the couple characters the best... I couldn't quite decide on a paring.

Thanks

D CSI


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